Project: Pre-Andromeda: The Offer
by Walkeroflonelyroads
Summary: ME:A pre-release fic. A different look at how Jonathan got the offer to join the Andromeda Initiative, from an unlikely source - Sara Ryder.


Author's note: Another piece, another separate idea of how Jonathan got into the Initiative.

As always, constructive criticism welcome.

* * *

" _Jon! Get out of here, leave all this behind, you hear me?"_

 _He nodded numbly, unable to do anything else but watch as the gun's barrel drooped, poking Chester right between the eyes._

 _Chester smiled that cocky smile of his, eyes on Jon, as the –_

The gunshot always woke him. Every single time.

Bolt upright, as though it was his head that the gun was pointed at. His hands scrabbled at the back of his head, searching for a bullet hole that wasn't there. Ragged breaths, sweat chilling his skin as his fingers twisted in his hair.

The red glow of the advertising drones outside his window bathed his room for a moment, the room turning dark again as they passed, leaving him in darkness once more. He untangled his legs from the sheets, hugged his knees to his chest.

He stayed like that for a while. In the past, he would have cried, too, but he doesn't now.

His omnitool beeped quietly. A message from his boss, Chief Engineer Rolston, on Earth. Told him to report for duty in three days.

Jonathan Chang Walker rose silently. He had three days, and he intended to learn how to get drunk.

* * *

EDROKI PLAZA

KITHOI WARD

THE CITADEL

2183 CE

He placed the first alcoholic drink order of his life.

The drink was amber, almost the same color as the kinetic barriers he was working on before he was ordered to the Citadel for some R&R, or 'reintegration into society' as Chief Rolston once joked; Jonathan has no intention of 'reintegrating', not after Akuze. People are assholes, after all.

He sat alone at the far side of the bar, holding his drink up to the light. "Fletcher's," the observant bartender had said, pouring him a glass of one of the weaker alcohols the establishment provided. He took a sip, the liquor a strong bitter taste on his tongue. Knew right then he wouldn't finish the glass, but what was he to do? Sit and brood in his apartment? He'd no one to talk to, not even Mother – he found out she died the same day he finished Advanced Infantry. He was never close to the rest of the recruits, feeling ashamed that he was from the slums, knowing that they'll never see past that, the discrimination.

And then, Akuze happened. Reason why he's trying to get drunk, against every single moral fiber he has in his body, against his better judgement. Maybe because he wanted someone to talk to, but since he didn't have that, he wanted to forget.

Life never made sense for him. He sighed. If only Mother could see him now. He closed his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn in shame.

He was brought out of his thoughts by several other patrons joining him at the bar; to be more specific, three female Alliance soldiers, dressed in fatigues. They were laughing at a joke one of them had just told, placing their orders of Fletcher's. He tried to smile at them, but they'd settled in, faces turned away from him, ready to listen to the one who told the joke.

He lowered his head. The other guys made it look so effortless, and here he was finding it difficult to just have an alcoholic drink, much less pick up girls.

"… so like I was saying, he goes right up to Silva, no fear, nothing, right? And, get this, he asks him, 'Sir, are you an archaeologist? Because I've a bone in my pants I'd like you to date."

Rambunctious laughter. He tried to shut it out. Damn marines. Cowards, the whole lot of them, fucking skirt-chasers –

He noticed the one with brown hair tied back into a ponytail –about his age, maybe younger – looked a little ill at ease as the other two soldiers roared with laughter, tossing back their drinks. She sipped at hers hesitantly – just like him. He had the uncanny feeling he was looking in a mirror – someone unused to being in a setting like this.

"Hey, isn't that the cutie pie you were talking about the other day?"

"No… no way! He's far better-looking than I thought!"

"Go on girl, this may be your only chance!"

"Well, watch this and learn, ladies!"

The first marine finished her drink in one long pull, then glided away. Jon had no interest in her; his eyes were still on the brunette.

There was something about her that he found attractive; maybe it was the fact that she remained barefaced while the other two had put on makeup. Her eyes were sky-blue, cheekbones high. Lips a little thick, but he found that appealing: he'd always hated the shopped versions of girls on the front cover of human magazines, they looked too picture perfect, mocking those who don't live up to the same standards, killing self-esteem faster than UV rays killing exposed bacteria. She looked the most wholesome of the trio of soldiers, the most genuine, the real deal.

The second marine said something to the brunette, then left the bar as well, probably off to the bathroom. It was just him and her, a meter apart, suddenly alone together, strangers at a bar drawn together by chance.

He felt a connection to this girl. He could feel the same sense of isolation radiating off her as she morosely lifted the glass to her lips, eyes staring at a point in the distance, her mind elsewhere, anywhere, but here.

He opened his mouth. Hesitated.

What has he got to lose anyway?

"You don't like it here either?"

She half-turned her head to look at him, glass in hand. Lips curved into a small smile, which made her look even more attractive.

"Yeah. Glad to see someone who understands."

"Jonathan," he didn't extend his hand, but offered a smile of his own, tentative.

"Sara."

They sipped at their drinks for a while.

"What are you doing in a place like this, Sara? If I may ask."

Sara shrugged. "Just got off active duty, a two-year tour. Didn't feel right leaving my squadmates to celebrate on their own. Didn't expect to end up in a place like this, though," she looked as if she tasted a lemon, her brow furrowing as she looked wearily into her glass. "You?"

"R&R. Just got off Akuze."

She raised her head, eyes suddenly bright, interested. "You're the survivor. The one who –"

"Yeah. Rather not talk about it."

She withdrew slightly, a subtle shifting of her arms back across the top of the bar. "I understand; it must have been difficult for you."

The silence stretched. She's probably chalking him up to be some sort of broken person, drinking to drown his sorrows. That the case, he'd nothing to lose. Might as well let loose, see where it takes him.

"Ever wondered what it's like to start over? Have a second chance at life?"

Sara swirled ice cubes. Remained quiet for a while. "Well… can't say I really have. I never had to. If I could, I'd be righting a lot of the things I'd done wrong. Right now, I'm glad for the life I have, I guess, though it's not perfect."

"For your sake, I hope you never have to. I had one chance, took it, and realized that it wasn't as rosy as I thought it was. I thought things would be different. See where that got me: abandoned alone on a death world with nothing but thresher maws for company. Oh, and two-hundred-year-old godawful disco music. Still got the jingles haunting me wherever I go," said Jonathan deadpan.

The sudden change in tone caught Sara off-guard. She chuckled. "Nice one."

"I try."

"It's funny you should mention second chances though, Jonathan."

"Please, call me Jon," he held his hands up. "No need to be all formal here."

She smiled again. Shifted herself closer.

"Funny you should mention second chances, Jon. I just got a proposition this morning, actually. It's… a second chance of sorts."

He arched an eyebrow. "Intriguing. You planning on taking it?"

"I'm… still thinking about it."

She looked at him in the eye. He became acutely aware that his mouth had gone dry.

"Ever heard of the Andromeda Initiative?"

"A hologame?"

She swatted him on the shoulder. Then, mortification, hand up to her mouth. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Was about to call C-Sec: Alliance soldier assaulting fellow engineer," he said, fingers aflutter theatrically.

"Ha ha. Really funny, Jon," she remarked, wiping her hands on her lap.

"Well, the Andromeda Initiative. A project of sorts."

As she continued, Jon could see a change come over Sara. She sat up straighter, eyes sparkling, became more animated, hand gestures – things one does when one is discussing a favorite topic.

"It all started in 2176. The Initiative's founder, Jien Garson, thought that the Milky Way has been completely mapped out. So she had an epiphany: why not send an expedition of Citadel council races to explore the Andromeda Galaxy? Pushing the boundaries, setting up a new frontier, exploring new systems, planets, maybe even meet new alien species?"

"Sounds crazy."

Sara raised a finger. "That's what I thought so too. At least, until dad explained the concept to me. We'll be traveling there in arkships. Six-hundred-year voyage –"

"What?"

She looked at him oddly. "Of course. The Andromeda Galaxy's two point five million lightyears away from the Milky Way."

Jonathan threw his hands up. "Sorry. I can be a smartass sometimes. Please, continue."

"So we'll be traveling there, exploring, finding new places to settle down. Maybe learn something about the civilizations there, too. I'm so excited!" Sara bounced in her seat.

Interesting concept, this Andromeda Initiative. "Well then, I'm glad that you, at least, have the opportunity. Clean slate," said Jon. "I'm pretty sure I'd never get a chance like yours. I'm just an engineer. You're…"

"A marine? Please, Jon. I spent the past two years providing security for Mateus Silva and his team, nothing more. The only action I've seen was me and my squad lugging crates full of rocks around," laughed Sara. "I think at this point in time, you're probably more qualified than I am for the Initiative."

"So, you got the proposition because…?"

She looked away. "Dad. He's senior staff, close to Jien Garson herself. I guess he wanted me and Scott to follow him, since mum…" Sara trailed off, a sadness in her eyes.

Jon felt her pain. He reached out, hesitated. Patted her hand. "I understand how you feel. I lost my mother too."

"Mm."

They shared comfortable silence for a while. The bartender came by, filled their glasses, and tactfully left them to it.

"It's a good opportunity. I'd say, take it. But the final choice is up to you, Sara. I am, after all, just a stranger you met at a bar, a nobody."

She shot him with an odd look.

"Why'd you say that, Jon? You're a nice guy. Actually, I'd like to get to know you better. I mean," she backpedaled. "Not in the sense of saying that I want to date you or hook up with you – God, I am terrible at this," she buried her face in her hands.

He laughed, long and loud, for the first time in a very long time. It felt good.

"It's okay, Sara. It's okay." He held a hand out. "I wish to get to know you better too. Let me reintroduce myself. Jonathan Chang Walker, Support Engineer, Alliance Engineering Corps."

Sara smiled widely. Her smile was lopsided, real. She took his hand; her grip was surprisingly strong, her hand callused. His pulse quickened.

"Hello, Jonathan. I am Sara Ryder, Private First Class, Alliance Marines. And Jon? I'd like to make you an offer."

Sara inhaled deeply, closed her eyes. Opened them. "Would you like to be part of the Andromeda Initiative?"


End file.
